


Like Real People Do

by robocryptid



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Antagonism, F/M, Hair-pulling, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 03, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robocryptid/pseuds/robocryptid
Summary: What Sypha wants, she gets. Doesn’t matter how bugfuck crazy it sounds, how utterly impossible, how unlikely it is to turn out well. She gets what she wants, because Trevor’s a bloody idiot who can’t say no. When she observes that Alucard seems lonelier than before and that she has a solution, Trevor grumbles and curses and spits, she bats her beautiful, stupidly blue eyes, and he does what he’s told.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 19
Kudos: 382





	Like Real People Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CorvidFightClub](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorvidFightClub/gifts).



> For [Corvid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvidfightclub), who saw me chatting about Trevor pulling Alucard's hair and had a mighty need. Beta'd by [YourAverageJoke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourAverageJoke). This title came from me playing with the [Hozier lyrics fanfic title generator](http://www.generatorland.com/usergenerator.aspx?id=22501) again.
> 
> There are references to Alucard's Truly Shitty Experience in season 3, but these remain relatively vague. Also, Trevor and Alucard are dicks to each other, because _of course they are_. Anyway, as far as I'm concerned, this is how season 4 starts.

#

What Sypha wants, she gets. Doesn’t matter how bugfuck crazy it sounds, how utterly impossible, how unlikely it is to turn out well. She gets what she wants, because Trevor’s a bloody idiot who can’t say no. When she observes that Alucard seems lonelier than before — really, when she suggests how to solve it — Trevor grumbles and curses and spits, she bats her beautiful, stupidly blue eyes, and he does what he’s told.

She’s right about Alucard anyway. Trevor doesn’t know what happened while they were away. Doesn’t know why Alucard’s suddenly trying on Daddy’s old impale-the-villagers shoes. It’s probably something terrible, but it’s always something terrible. That’s the world Trevor lives in, and Alucard too, and Sypha now, although that last one makes him ache in a place that used to be numb. Whatever happened, Alucard’s different now. He’s testy, a brittle knife’s edge. Trevor didn’t think it was possible, but he broods more than ever. So sure, Sypha is right about the problem. It’s the solution he finds questionable. 

Trevor’s been with men before. Well, a man. Mostly because he had more of his teeth than any of the women Trevor could afford at the time. The point is, his knowledge isn’t purely theoretical. He isn’t completely out of his element. Just partly. 

He hedges about that detail with Sypha though, just tells her yes, he’s done it before. He really, really does not want a Speaker-style lecture on the finer mechanics. His insides are knotted up enough as it is. 

He wonders if they’re going to have to get drunk or something to get through this. He would honestly prefer it, and it might make the whole  _ talk  _ go over better, but Sypha’s just as tactless as she’s ever accused him of being. She brings it up over dinner, looking Alucard directly in the eye. It’s mortifying.

Worse, she blames it on  _ them.  _ “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? The two of you?” She sniffs, superior. “You have been like this” — her gesture explains nothing — “since the minute you met.” 

Alucard looks so surprised that his sneer suddenly disappears. Then he looks away with red-stained cheeks, which is how Trevor learns vampires can blush, and well, maybe he  _ is  _ sort of pretty without the snooty look. Oh God. Trevor drains his wine glass in one go, wishing desperately it were beer instead. 

When Alucard looks back at him with hooded eyes, something churns in Trevor’s gut. “Surely you cannot want this,” Alucard says, and the velvety hush of his voice does not help matters. 

“Uh,” answers Trevor. 

“He already agreed, actually,” Sypha says helpfully. 

“You planned ahead?” Alucard sounds uncomfortable. Wary even.

“She asked, is all.” Trevor’s whole face burns. “Go on, tell her she’s crazy.” Maybe Alucard can say no to her where he can’t. Then they can get well and truly shitfaced and forget this whole mess. “Don’t want your fangs near my kit anyway.” 

Alucard snarls. Trevor sulks. Sypha sighs. 

Then she brightens, sitting up higher in her seat. “Don’t let him fool you. He is actually very sweet in bed,” she says like Trevor’s not here. Even the tops of his fucking ears are hot. “Very attentive.”

“Oh?” Alucard asks, gleefully wallowing in Trevor’s humiliation. What an asshole. 

“And you would think, with all the ‘grr, big man’ attitude and the bar fighting, that he is compensating for his equipment?” She leans forward conspiratorially, and Alucard leans with her. “He? Is  _ not.”  _

Alucard grins, fangs glinting in the light as Trevor slumps deeper into his seat. The underside of the table is looking more and more appealing. “Above average for once in your life, hm, Belmont?”

Trevor slaps a hand over his face like he can hide how red it is from either of these two lunatics. “I’m also tall,” he protests weakly. 

Alucard laughs, the first Trevor’s heard from him since he and Sypha arrived here. The sound tumbles out of him, and when Trevor finally quits hiding behind his hand, Alucard looks as surprised by it as he feels. Softness creeps in around the edges of Alucard’s aloof bullshit. Trevor reluctantly joins him in his laughter, and Sypha looks at them both fondly. If it’s strange that Alucard laughs too long and loudly for the moment, the sound is so relieved — and such a relief after all his moping — that Trevor can’t judge. 

It takes a long time for his shoulders to stop shaking with the occasional chuckle in the aftershock. Then he looks at Trevor in that way he’s only ever done right before they’re in very real danger. It’s  _ warm, _ lit up by the curve at the edges of his mouth. The only explanation he gives is cryptic and pointless, even for him. “Even when you surprise me, you are always the same, Trevor Belmont.” Some other time, he knows he would tell Alucard to fuck off or eat shit, and they might laugh some more or Alucard might respond in kind, but this is new territory, and it’s  _ nice _ that Alucard said something maybe sort of nice, and the script does not come readily. Faced with Trevor’s silence, Alucard swallows the last of his wine in an uncharacteristically unrefined gulp. “Very well. The lady will have what she wants.”

Trevor thinks he might have heard wrong, but Sypha’s delighted cheer quickly disabuses him of that idea. He heard right. So did she. There’s no getting out of it now. 

She turns her delighted, expectant look on him, gripping his arm in her eager hands. Alucard’s golden eyes are heavy on his skin, sizing him up. He looks hungry, which is a godawful thought to have when considering intercourse with a vampire. Half-vampire. Whatever. 

Then Alucard stands, determined. “Shall we?”

Trevor manfully stamps down on a squeak when he asks, “What? Right now?”

“Yes!” Sypha laughs, tugging his arm. 

At the same time, Alucard’s fondness dissipates into his more typical distant contempt. “No, we’ll plan it for the next new moon.”

Trevor’s brow scrunches while he tries to puzzle out what significance that could possibly have. “The next—”

“It was sarcasm,” Alucard says impatiently. “You asked. I said yes. Dinner is over. What better time is there?”

Sypha lets out a drawn out sigh, although she still manages to sound amused. “Rude, but his point stands. Besides,” she practically sing-songs, “the sooner you do it, the sooner you two will stop… this.” She makes another inexplicable gesture with her hand. 

If there is one thing he and Alucard can bond over, it’s Sypha making no sense. They share a look that she sniffs at. 

* * *

Trevor doesn’t know where to start. He knows he looks like a fool, drumming his fingers on his thigh. The only comfort is that Alucard clearly has no idea either. Sypha probably doesn’t, but that’s never stopped her from acting as if she knows everything. 

The awkward standoff ends when Sypha mutters, “Honestly,” and reaches for Trevor’s shirt. She has half his chest exposed before he realizes what’s happening. Realizing it and reacting to it are separate things; he still doesn’t move. 

He risks a glance at Alucard, who is similarly frozen. Except Alucard is staring openly at the skin Sypha’s revealing, amber eyes burning. Trevor swallows, and he watches Alucard watch his throat bob. Suddenly he’s halfway grateful he’s being undressed, because the room feels much too hot. He should probably feel more distress with a bloody vampire staring at his neck that way, but Alucard’s gaze eats up far more skin than that. 

Sypha’s hands are clever, and his shirt is open before long. It is too quick, because he still has no idea what to do with himself. For all that she’s a know-it-all, sometimes she’s  _ right _ about knowing it all. Trevor is grateful for it this time, because it means he doesn’t have to speak in order for her to give him a break.

She turns instead to Alucard, whose eyes are still hungry on Trevor’s skin, sweeping over his battle hardened body like he’s trying to absorb every detail. He too seems at a loss, startled when Sypha turns his way. Trevor can only watch as she steps into Alucard’s space. He thinks she’ll undress him the same way, but instead she catches his eye, her palm coming to rest gently on one sharp cheek. A silent exchange passes between them, one that Trevor has no access to, but it makes Alucard’s face soften, eyes clouded and far less wary.

He looks almost grateful when Sypha rises onto the tips of her toes to kiss him. Trevor thinks he should feel jealous or angry, but he is struck by how tender it is instead. It is soft, reminiscent of those times when Sypha only wants to be held, or when she figures out Trevor’s had a nightmare and only wants to hold  _ him. _ It is hardly what he expected Alucard to want, and yet Alucard’s fingers clench helplessly when they finally seize in the folds of her robe.

It strikes Trevor that he is only staring, immobilized once more by every detail of the scenario, when Sypha finally breaks and reaches for him. He doesn’t know who guides who or how it happens. He only knows that suddenly he is kissing Alucard. There is no tenderness for him. Instead there’s an iron grip in his hair and Sypha’s tiny hand in the small of his back.

Fangs catch on his bottom lip, but Alucard startles and pulls back, practically skittish about it. It’s then that Trevor realizes he doesn’t care about the fangs — that he may not trust vampires, but he does trust this one. He steps into Alucard’s space and insistently seals their mouths together again, careful of the pointy bits but sure about the rest.

For all his cold exterior and superior attitude, he surrenders the instant Trevor takes control. Alucard melts against him until there is no space left between their bodies, until Alucard is swaying on his feet, forcing Trevor to bear his weight like he would for someone drunk or wounded.

Sypha was  _ right.  _ She always is, insufferable as it is to admit. Alucard  _ needs  _ them, even if he might never say as much aloud.

With the realization, Trevor pulls back, a startled gasp escaping, and of course Sypha knows he’s overwhelmed by the discovery, because she fills in for him immediately, taking over so that he is left watching them kiss again. He doesn’t know what to do, but watching feels nice enough. Unthinking, he reaches a hand into Alucard’s ridiculous hair, and the shuddery sound that it inspires hits Trevor like a punch to the gut.

They break soon enough, Alucard stuttering for what might be the first time in his life. “What was that?” Trevor asks, and though he could not tell you why, he even tries to hide his perverse delight at having helped to render Alucard so useless.

“Show me,” he repeats. “The two of you. I—” He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t have to.

Trevor turns with a grin, because this is more familiar and always fun, and he sweeps Sypha into his arms. She giggles against his mouth as he hitches her closer, then her arms loop around his neck and her mouth is on his, molding perfectly like it always does, her lips soft and still tasting of sweet wine. There’s no tentative exploration here, no new discovery to surprise him, but it is as exhilarating as ever.

She laughs again when she pulls away, huge eyes full of mischief as she grabs hold of his hands and pushes them where she wants them to go. He knows this too, pulling at the familiar fastenings of her robe, for the way she simply insists on what she wants. He may tease and gripe about her being a bossy know-it-all, but when it comes to this, he only ever feels relieved and grateful for her certainty.

The heavy robe ripples noisily as it falls to the floor, leaving her only in the thin shift she wears beneath it. Alucard has not told him if he wants them in his bed, and Sypha has not guided him that direction, so Trevor remains where he is. He bunches the cloth in his hands, gathering it upward. The room is so quiet he can hear the way fabric whispers up her smooth thighs.

When he reaches into her undergarments, she makes a startled sound. It’s the sound she always makes, as if she is perpetually pleasantly surprised by the way Trevor’s calloused fingers feel against her. She is dripping wet, his fingers slipping through damp curls and across silky, blood-hot skin.

Like this, it is easy to forget they have an audience. She pushes, and he tears himself away from her mouth, dropping to his knees. He takes her underthings to the floor with him, and they tangle around her ankles. He doesn’t let her step out of them before he shoves the gathered fabric of her shift up again and presses his mouth between her legs. Even here, she tastes sweet, among other, earthier things, and he kisses the nub at the peak of her folds, laps at the silky skin behind the soft curling hair until she pushes his head away with a gasp.

He could go on like this if she wanted, but there’s more here that they must do. It’s Alucard who draws him to his feet again, who kisses him and sucks the taste of Sypha off his bottom lip, licks into his mouth to chase the flavor there too. When the kiss breaks again, Alucard looks drunk, and Trevor sympathizes.

It’s also Alucard who fully divests Trevor of his shirt, and his hands are tentative on Trevor’s scarred skin, as if he worries that somehow only touching is going too far. It isn’t — it is, in fact, more than good — and there is a distinct pleasure in the feel of large, cool hands moving across his heated skin.

There are smaller hands on him as well, and Sypha’s slender, warm body pressed against his back, tugging at the ties of his pants. Between the two of them, he is hard as a rock, and the first touch of Sypha’s clever little fingers on his cock makes him gasp, pushing helplessly into it as his head drops to rest on Alucard’s shoulder.

The motion bumps him into Alucard’s hard cock too, and Trevor’s head spins because this is  _ real,  _ really happening to him, he and Sypha are really going to fuck Alucard. This has only just begun, and he already knows he wants it to happen again. The thought sends a shock through his whole body, cuts deep into his core, and he shudders against Sypha's hand.

"Bed," Alucard snarls, bossier now that he  _ wants. _

Trevor loses track of how they get there or how he loses the rest of his clothing. He knows Sypha loses hers because he’s the one who does it, who shoves the shift upward, pausing only to get his mouth on one of the small breasts he can see jutting against the cloth. Wet, the fine fabric goes sheer and clings to her pink nipple, and he only lets off because she commands it, pushing him away with a breathless laugh.

Alucard nude looks exactly like Trevor might have expected, if he had ever admitted he’d considered it. He’s powerful and lean. He looks as if he’s been carved from marble, hard all over and almost uniformly pale, save for the faint pink spreading down his chest, the duskiness of his nipples, the blushing red of his cock. His fine gold hair is darker between his thighs, sparser even than Sypha’s, so that Trevor — who has never exactly had a pelt himself — feels strangely conscious of his own.

Alucard watches again when Trevor buries his face between Sypha’s legs. This time she is on her back, and her thighs tremble beside his ears, and when he glances up, Alucard is splayed out beside her, having returned to their tender kissing while his long fingers explore her breasts.

She writhes and arches, hips shifting restlessly until Trevor tightens his grip to hold her still, and he does not stop until he feels her tense and shudder, until she cries out, muffled against Alucard’s mouth, until her taste floods over his tongue anew. Only then does he pull away, and only because he is dragged by Alucard, whose hungry mouth latches onto his once more.

This time Trevor surges into it, crawling past Sypha and bearing Alucard down onto the bed. Alucard goes willingly, falling back until Trevor is draped over his body. Like this, it is easy to forget the earlier awkwardness. They are too far gone for that now. Alucard rises into every touch like he is starved for it, spine arching when Trevor grasps at his chest, belly jerking as Trevor’s palm slides across it. He doesn’t settle until Trevor presses his weight down, the hard lines of their cocks brushing together.

He surrenders to instinct, to the slide of his cock along Alucard’s hip and belly, slick from the both of them. He settles between Alucard’s legs, and his hands grow rougher, grasping at the cool flesh beneath him, digging into skin and muscle. He drags his mouth down the column of a pale throat and hitches one of Alucard’s thighs over his hip.

Then Alucard’s grip tightens painfully on his shoulder, and he says roughly, “Not like—” before he cuts off on a gasp. It is still disconcerting enough that Trevor withdraws, uncertain all over again. They both freeze, Alucard’s stupid eyelashes fluttering with surprise. “Wait.”

Whatever it is, it passes quickly, and perhaps it is only as simple as Alucard wanting something  _ different.  _ He pushes Trevor back gently. Sypha stirs again, and Trevor feels her warmth behind him, feels her lips brush his shoulder, but even without looking at her, he knows her eyes are on Alucard.

Alucard withdraws, and he returns with a small bottle that he pushes into Trevor’s hands, eyes cast to the side in a way that is unexpectedly demure. That passes too, because in the next moment, he has turned his back to Trevor, and he commands, “Get on with it, then.”

It's hardly the most seductive thing anyone’s ever said to him. “‘Get on with it, then,’” he parrots in the snootiest voice he can summon, reminded suddenly of Alucard’s ability to render everything more infuriating. Even this, it seems.

Sypha makes an amused, if sleepy, sound behind him. “Yes, get on with it, Trevor,” she says teasingly, and she  _ pokes  _ him, a sharp little finger in his back. “You did say you knew what you were doing. If you don’t, I could explain—” 

_ “Please _ don’t,” he says, his ears growing hot again. 

“Oh, no, please do,” Alucard says, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “I am sure it will be quite educational.” Whatever came over him earlier, Sypha has managed to draw out his usual nonsense.

“It’s like neither of you want my cock to stay hard.”

Sypha, for once, does not have a smartass comeback for that one. Alucard, on the other hand… “If I had known you would find it so difficult, I might have—”

He cuts off even before Trevor mutters, “Shut  _ up,”  _ freezing and then melting at the feel of Trevor’s slick fingers sliding down his crack. Following his surprise, one slips inside Alucard easily. Cool as he is on the outside, he’s molten hot inside, and he opens so readily on a pair of fingers that Trevor thinks he hardly needs it at all. 

Given that the last man he did this with was being paid, he sort of suspected it was his money causing all those needy, ego-stroking reactions. Alucard has never cared to stroke his ego though, and he also makes a needy sound, shuddering as Trevor crooks his fingers down. It’s honestly sort of mesmerizing. Sypha’s quiet “oh” behind him suggests that she agrees. Alucard’s head drops, and he shuffles his knees apart, ass tilting higher just for Trevor’s fingers. 

It can’t last though. Neither Alucard nor Sypha has the patience to let Trevor indulge himself. Sypha snatches the bottle away from him, and the next thing he knows, she’s wrapping a slick hand around his cock, grip loose but warm and slippery and wonderful enough that Trevor has to grit his teeth and  _ work  _ not to thrust into it. 

Alucard’s at least as bad, complaining about Trevor’s fingers, then complaining  _ more  _ when Trevor pulls them free. Trevor has to bat Sypha’s hand away to do anything, but Alucard goes still and silent the moment the crown of Trevor’s cock touches his wet hole. It opens around him, but not as easily as with Trevor’s fingers. He has to work for it, guiding it carefully and nudging forward in small increments. 

It’s torture, is what it is, pressing his cock just barely into a hot, willing space, only sinking in slowly. Alucard’s hole practically clings when he does it too, like it doesn’t want him to leave. Finally he presses in as far as he can get, wet heat squeezing around his cock. It dries his mouth out, and he can’t fully control the way his hips stutter forward, trying to get deeper when he’s already as deep as he can get. 

Alucard pants, constricting around him before relaxing further, then he pushes back against Trevor, and he says, “Move,” but his voice is too cracked for it to be a command. 

Trevor could get used to this. He tries a few thrusts, and Alucard makes a sound suspiciously like a whine. He fumbles between them, tugging at his own ass cheek until Trevor is that tiniest bit deeper. He can’t hold it for long though, needing both hands for balance as Trevor takes out all his irritation with sharper and harder thrusts. 

There’s something fiercely satisfying in having rendered Alucard speechless, in watching his shoulders bunch then relax, his hands tangle in the sheets. Trevor fucks him until Alucard’s whole face is pressed into the mattress, muffled sounds punched out of him. 

He wants to  _ hear _ though. He wants to know exactly what he’s doing to this proud bastard. So he mutters, “Oh, no you don’t,” then he seizes a fistful of long hair and  _ pulls. _

Alucard makes a harsh, animal noise that sounds almost broken, and his spine twists and bows, hips fucking back against Trevor’s like he can’t help himself. “I think he liked that,” Sypha says with a touch of awe in her voice. 

Trevor laughs, but he doesn’t have any more words in him. He adjusts his grip in Alucard’s hair though, shortening the length by twisting it round and round his hand and wrist, until Alucard’s back is arched at such a vicious angle Trevor thinks he might  _ do  _ something about it, but all Alucard does is gasp out,  _ “Yes.” _

Trevor fucks him like that, moving in sharp, jagged bursts, skin slapping skin so hard he thinks his balls will hurt later, all with Alucard’s hair wrapped around him like a bracelet or a gauntlet. Like a shackle made of pale gold, securing them together. Alucard gasps and moans and shakes in his grasp, begging for more with the eager bounce of his hips. 

He hears his name gasped, and it takes his mind a moment to pick up that it’s Sypha, breathless at his side. Sypha, who is all smooth softness, who even smooths away Trevor’s roughest edges, who makes him want to be soft and caring and all the things his bloodstained hands shouldn’t be capable of. Sypha, who he has never once treated this way, because she gets what she wants, and she’s never asked for it. When he meets her gaze, it is heavy and dark with desire. 

Her eyes scald him, make his skin prickle, and he releases Alucard’s hip to yank her closer to him by the back of her neck, to kiss her and let her feel the edges of his teeth, to force her to swallow his low growl when Alucard’s body tightens around him. Her lips part against his, a surprised gasp leaping free, and he comes like that, with his teeth sinking into Sypha’s bottom lip and his cock buried to the hilt inside Dracula’s fucking son. 

It’s overwhelming, stuck between the two of them, but somehow he finds the coordination to pull Alucard against him, to sit back on his heels and use the grip on his hair to force him back down onto Trevor’s lap, thighs splayed to either side. He wraps his other hand around Alucard’s cock, and Sypha’s joins him, and together they bring him off. Alucard’s fangs glint in the light as his mouth opens wide, gaping silently as he comes, squeezing around Trevor’s softening cock. 

It takes time to come down from it. It also takes time to untangle Alucard’s hair, which Trevor would feel sort of bad about if he hadn’t discovered just how much Alucard — and Sypha, apparently — likes it. Sypha’s all worked up again from watching them, so Trevor kisses her more gently now, and he pushes Alucard’s hand down between her thighs and makes him do the work, because Trevor hasn’t spent enough time with her tits today. He does lick Alucard’s fingers clean when they’re finished though. 

They don’t discuss whatever happened to Alucard while they were away. They don’t talk about what might change between them after this. They simply exist in the moment, and they rest, and when they have more energy, Trevor and Alucard even manage not to insult each other for a little while — although that might be because Sypha figures out how to keep both their mouths occupied. 


End file.
